Nothing is Better
by geekling
Summary: A Will/Mac piece of fluff/smut set shortly after the season finale. Rated M for some mild language and graphic adult situations. What happens during a friendly drink after work? First fanfic attempt so please be kind!


Disclaimer: As much as I love Aaron Sorkin's The Newsroom, I don't own it, or the characters. Please don't sue me (you wouldn't get very much if you tried though!)

This is my first EVER attempt at writing fanfic. I've been an avid reader for years, but the lack of newsroom stories makes me sad so I decided to have a go at it. Please be kind and thanks for reading!

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Mac sighed heavily as she pushed away from her desk.

It had been a week since their "American Taliban" broadcast. A week of 322 brand new death threats towards her, Will, and the general Newsnight staff. A week of cautious affection between her and Will. A week of meaningful looks, glances from the corner of her eyes, subtle undertones whispered in his ear during the nightly broadcast...a week of hope on her part, that they could finally start over.

They would never be able to have the same relationship they did before. And maybe that was a good thing. Maybe this (hypothetical) new relationship will be better, stronger. It would be different certainly.

Whatever had been on that voicemail- and Oh, how she hoped she was right in the what she thought it was- was gone forever. Unless she could get Will to repeat it. She had tried many times since her epiphany during the now famous American Taliban broadcast, each time unsuccessfully. She had started to consider asking Neal if he had any connections to the same stuff he gave Will before. She was always a good baker...some "special" brownies would be no problem. Despite his gruff and caustic attitude, she knew for a fact that Will had a sweet tooth the size of Manhattan.

But she didn't. She didn't want to hear him say it to her while he was high. She wanted him to willingly and honestly speak to her; just his thoughts, unblemished by the lack of control the drugs had no doubt allowed. She had learned the hard way that self control was vital. All of these thoughts went though her mind for the thousandth time as she left her office and walked towards Will's. On her short trek she said her nightly goodbyes to the staff, who were starting to find their way out. She knocked lightly on the glass door and entered.

She smiled brightly at Will as he glanced up from his notes. The broadcast that night had been another success and, surprisingly, their numbers had risen higher than anything Casey Anthony had done for them. Apparently her hope in the American public was not displaced.

"Good job tonight Will," she said as she rested her hip on the edge of his desk. "I know it's still a touchy subject, but we have got to keep pushing it. People need to know, and they want to know. I told you our news would work, didn't I? " she grinned at him mischievously.

Will leaned back in his chair as she approached his desk. He smirked at her, remembering her impassioned Don Quixote speech on her first day here. The speech he had "eaten up with a soup ladle" if he remembered correctly. Maybe he did, or maybe he just wanted to piss Don off- he didn't want to think too deeply about it.

"I know the numbers Mac. And maybe, just maybe, you were right. Either way, it'll be easier to do it now that Leona isn't breathing down our necks." Mac watched as he stood and reached for two glasses and the tumbler of scotch he kept in his cabinet. She gratefully accepted the glass he handed her and enjoyed the clink of their glasses against one another. Toasting, but not for anything specific.

He sat back down and eyed her speculatively.

" You're not going to ask tonight?" " I was going to wait until you had had a few more of these in your system." Mac replied, only half joking.

She walked around to his side of the desk and resumed her position, leaning her hip against the edge. She tilted her head back and grimaced as the scotch burned it's way down the back of her throat.

Will watched her drink his 20 year old scotch like a shot of cheap tequila. To be more exact, he watched the line of her slim neck, extended gracefully that led into the pale skin of her chest that she probably wasn't aware she was showing him. The pale skin that was starting to turn a very nice shade of pink as she noticed him observing her.

"How about a change tonight? Why won't you tell me what the message said?"

That got his attention. Will looked at her, his eyebrows raised. He took a slow sip of his scotch. Mac raised her eyebrows in return, feeling a bit triumphant at being able to surprise Will, and she knew for a fact that she had taken him by surprise. She knew he was gathering his thoughts, whether for a scathing remark or to shock her in return with the truth.

She was feeling warm from the scotch. Or from the look Will had been giving her, while he thought she wasn't looking. Probably a combination of both, but she wasn't going to be deterred this time.

She repeated herself "Why don't you want to tell me what the message said?"

He opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it and drank the last sip of his scotch before refilling her glass and his.

"You know what it said Mac." he said softly and with a sigh, without looking at her.

If he had been looking he would have seen Mac's eyes widen in surprise, and the quick flash of hope, and gratitude that flitted across her face. She looked down at the floor, suddenly finding her feet very interesting as she mumbled "I certainly know what I wanted it to say. But it's difficult to act on..." she trailed off, not finishing her sentence.

She looked up at him, finding him looking directly at her. He stepped closer to her, and she could feel the heat radiating from his body. "What did you want it to say Mac?" he asked softly, as he cupped her cheek in his free hand, his eyes half closed. He didn't miss the hitch in her breathing, the way her eyes drifted closed, or the way her lips parted automatically. He didn't miss the flush that blossomed on her cheeks, down her delicious throat, and started to cover her chest, again. He didn't miss it, and he loved it.

Mac was having a hard time breathing. He was so close to her, and she had only dreamed that he would be this close to her again over the last 4 years. He smelled different than he did four years ago, but there was still the familiar scent of the fabric softener on his sweater was the same, along with his aftershave. The scotch and cigarette smoke on his breath wasn't the Will she had known though, he never used to smoke around her. All together it was intoxicating, and overwhelming.

She took a shuddering gasp as she felt his other hand slide to her hip. "What did you want it say?" He whispered again, pulling her against him. His forehead rested on hers.

Mac could barely think, let alone make words come out of her mouth in any sensible fashion. So she did the only thing she could think of to do. She kissed him. She tried to tell him everything she wanted, and hoped, and felt in that kiss.

Will felt her arms wrap around his neck and then her lips were on his. She tasted sweet, with traces of the scotch. She was soft and warm and gentle and oh, how he had missed this. How he had missed her. He felt her hands in his hair, on his face, his neck, his chest, everywhere. His hands had somehow found their way to her back and then to that wonderful curve of her lower back and were currently occupying themselves with her hips and ass.

He pushed her up against the desk, and suddenly she was sitting on it, with a leg on either side of his hips. He pushed himself against her and she moaned.

"Mac" he breathed, getting her to stop and look him in the eye.

Mac stopped her ministrations of his belt buckle that she was desperately trying to get undone with one hand, while not looking. It was much harder than it should have been, and she blamed it completely on the alcohol.

She looked at him. In the dim light, eye to eye, she looked at him. And she smiled. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear "Billy, I love you. I never stopped. I know that you love me. Now I want you to fuck me. We can talk after. Please." She had trailed off, begging him. She wasn't sure for what.

She looked at him as she drew back, he stared at her and then suddenly his mouth was on hers, hungry and demanding. Breaking contact only to tug her shirt over her head and toss it across, behind, to the side...somewhere, she wasn't sure. He made his way down her neck as his hands cupped her breasts, rolling the nipples not so gently between his fingers. He remembered what she liked, he had had more than one embarrassing dream of doing exactly this. She thrust her breasts harder into his hands, and as his mouth landed on them, he took one pink nipple into his mouth, through her lacey bra, as his hands pushed her skirt over her hips.

Mac gasped as his mouth covered her nipple. Oh, this was so right, and so so good. Her hands were pushing his shirt apart and off his shoulders. She ran her hands down his chest, feeling the blonde hair scrape her fingertips as she headed straight for his nipples. Will might've been a leg man (and thank God he was, she was quite proud of hers) but his weakness was his nipples. To be more specific, there wasn't a faster way to get him turned on than to play with or suck on his nipples.

His hand made it's way between her legs. He pushed her thong aside and felt how wet she was. Wet for him, because of him. That thought went straight to his groin and he didn't think he could get any harder, but obviously he was wrong. He slipped two fingers into her, and his thumb circled her clit lightly. She gasped, and her hips reacted involuntarily and she started to ride his hand as he pumped his fingers in and out of her.  
She reached for his belt buckle again, this time successfully undoing it, and pushing his pants down his hips with his boxers. She wrapped her hand around him and moved it up and down a few times. He was bigger than she remembered.

Will removed his hand as she guided him to her wetness. She scooted to the edge of the desk and wrapped her legs around his waist as he slowly pushed himself into her. He stopped once he was all the way in, savoring the moment. The perfectness of this- so warm, soft, wet, and loving. It was loving- she was loving, THEY were loving. They were perfect. The nudge of her foot against his hip reminded him to move. And move he did, his hands grasping her hips tightly as he pounded himself into her.

Mac felt like she was flying higher and higher. It felt so good, and so right. Her nails were digging into his back, leaving red tracks all over it. She couldn't help herself, she couldn't stop.

"Billy" she whimpered over and over. She knew he heard it, because each time he drove harder into her, hitting all the right spots. And suddenly she was falling, and it was Heaven. She felt her muscles all clench at once and stars danced before her closed eyelids.

Will felt her come. He felt her muscles clench tight around him and heard her gasp his name as she broke apart beneath him. His pounding became faster, and erratic as her hands found their way to his nipples, he heard her whisper "Come for me Billy" in that sultry goddamn English accent and that was all it took. He exploded inside of her, white dots flashing and fading before his eyes.

Mac held him as he came down. She rubbed her hands up and down his back, hoping she hadn't drawn blood with any of her scratches. His head rested in the crook of her neck and she felt his hot breath on the top of her breast. His breathing finally slowed and he looked at her, and kissed her soundly.

When they finally came up for air he rested his forehead on hers.

"I do love you" he said quietly, his breath mingling with hers.

Mac beamed at him. " I love you too, Billy." He saw that she had tears in her eyes, and he wrapped his arms around her as he helped her hop down from the desk. They stood like that for a few minutes, just embracing one another; his head buried in her hair and her head buried in his neck.

They let go because the unfortunate reality of sex is that it can get a bit messy afterwards. Will hunted down Mac's top (he had thrown behind them) as she went to clean up in his restroom. She walked out a few minutes later and he was there, holding her shirt out to her. She pulled it over her head and started buttoning up the buttons on his shirt for him. Not because he was incapable, but because she wanted an excuse to be this close to him again.

He stopped her hands and held them to his lips, looking down at her. "I meant it Mac. I do love you. I want to try again" he said slowly. "I've missed you and it's been hell to have you here and not..."

She stopped him with another kiss. Goodness, she forgot how good it felt to kiss him.  
"I love you Billy." It was all she could say. "I want you, I want us. I'm so, so sorr.."

Will stopped her with (what else?) his lips. "No more apologies. Not for that. I forgive you. This is going to be... Will & Mac 2.0" he said with a grin.

Mac grinned back at him. "What musical is this going to be based on?" she asked cheekily, as she ran her hands down his arms.

Will looked thoughtful for a minute, before deciding that there wasn't a musical he could think of that was as good as they were together. "No musical, no story, nothing is better than this reality Mac."


End file.
